


Sam and Dean Spend Five Nights at Freddy's

by StreetSolo



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Supernatural
Genre: Animatronics, Case Fic, Child Death, Crack, Disturbing Themes, Five Nights at Freddy's - Freeform, Fluff and Crack, Funny, Haunting, Humor, Hunter Castiel, Hunter Dean, Hunter Sam, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Possession, Scary, Team Free Will, Well it's a bit funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4172616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSolo/pseuds/StreetSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bobby first tells Sam and Dean about a case in a local pizzeria, Dean thinks the job is going to be a piece of cake. He soon discovers that animatronics coming to life to kill him are one of his worst fears, and calls in an old friend for help. But will the three of them be able to uncover the mystery behind the unexplained disappearances and mysterious deaths and spend Five Nights at Freddy's?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NIGHT ONE

            “I can’t believe you have me doing this,” Dean grunted, crossing his arms across his chest. The security room of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was small and there was hardly enough room for the both of them. Sam was set up in front of the monitor, being the tech guy and all, to track the progress of the animatronic puppets, whereas Dean was merely there to figure out why people still came to a pizzeria where some security guard got his frontal lobe bitten off by one of these animatronics in ’87. Or why people would even keep the animatronics around after that. Apparently, before that incident, several children had gone missing and around that time security guards started to vanish. Some people said they merely ran off the job, others said that the place was cursed, as apparently no one had lasted more than five nights. So naturally…

            “Bobby said this sounded like our kind of thing,” Sam replied testily, cocking his head to the side.

            “Yeah, well.” Dean checked his sawed-off, running his palm against the metal barrel as the phone rang and a recorded message clicked on.

            “Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night,” the voice said. “Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I’m finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I’m here to tell you there’s nothing to worry about. Uh, you’ll be fine. So let’s just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?”

            “Okay,” Dean replied in a sarcastic voice. Sam let out a chuckle.

            “Uh, let’s see, first there’s an introductory greeting from the company that I’m supposed to read. It’s kind of a legal thing, you know. Uh, “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for any damage done to property or persons. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person’s report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon as property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced.”

            Sam looked sideways at Dean who raised his eyebrows and clucked his tongue. Well, that explained what probably happened to the missing security guards. They were killed by freaking puppets. Fantastic.

            “Okay, now I know that might sound bad, but there’s really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.”

            “He’s talking about them like they’re freakin’ people,” Dean muttered. Sam narrowed his eyes and shushed him.

            “So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they’re left in some kind of free roaming mode at night…something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was the Bite of ’87. Yeah. It’s amazing that human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?”

            Dean swallowed hard.

            “Uh, now, concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won’t recognize you as a person. They’ll p-mostly likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that’s against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, they’ll probably try to…uh, forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear’s suit. Um, now, that wouldn’t be so bad if the suits themselves weren’t filled with crossbeams, wires and animatronic devices, especially around the um, facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort and…death.” Dean looked at Sam with a rising expression of horror on his face as the voice continued on. “Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.”

            Dean felt the pit in his stomach drop further into his intestines. “Yeah, yeah, they don’t tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I’ll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those camera, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night.”

The voice stopped and Dean checked his watch. 2 AM. This was going to be a long night. “Dean, Dean,” Sam suddenly hissed excitedly, hovering over the monitor. “Bonnie’s moved backstage.”

            “Bonnie?” Dean asked with a huff. “You mean the rabbit?”

            “Yes.”

            “Check the others.”

            Sam pulled the live feed of the show stage back up. Dean cocked his head to the side. “Okay, now go backstage again.”

            Bonnie’s face was right up against the camera.

            “Shit,” Dean hissed as he jerked his head backwards.

            Sam laughed. “What’s the matter, Dean? Scared of the Easter Bunny?”

            “No,” Dean huffed. “No, it’s just creepy.” He shook his head from side to side quickly.

            “Dean, Chica’s moved.”

            “What?”

            Sam clicked through the live feeds until he saw Chica standing in the bathroom. Dean turned around and pressed his back against the wall. There was a door open to his left and a door open to his right, each extending out into a long dark hallway. He was about to tell Sam that he was going to head out to check things out when Sam spoke. “The bunny’s gone, Dean. I can’t find it on the monitors.”

            “Okay this is getting too creepy,” Dean hissed, pulling the sawed-off closer to his side.

            “Dean, will you put that thing down?” Sam asked, clicking through the monitors. “They’re just puppets, all right? I don’t think that’s really going to help.”

            “Well it’s not my fault you forgot the salt.” Dean struggled to keep his voice down, not sure if the puppets could hear him.

            “We don’t even know if these are spirits,” Sam replied in an even voice. “They could just be-“

            “What? Faulty animatronics?” Dean asked. “Bobby wouldn’t send us if it was that simple.”

            Sam raised his eyebrows in agreement. “The thing about these machines is that usually when you have a puppet like this, they have like a brain and a spinal cord, a bunch of wires that attach to a central column and the rest is just…padding.” He glanced up at Dean. “But these, you could fit a person inside if you wanted to. Not a whole person, it would kill you as Phone Guy said, but you could probably fit-“

            “A kid?” Dean asked.

            “Dean-“ Sam swallowed hard as he closed the monitor and jumped to his feet. “Something just moved out there.”

            “What?” Dean asked, spinning around. He flicked on the light switch to light up just the right side of the hallway, known as the East Hall. There was Chica, peering in the security office through the window. Her head was cocked to one side, beak slightly open, eyes bulging against the glass. Sam couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw some discharge around her eyes, either blood or mucus or both.

            Dean yelled at the top of his lungs and slammed his hand against the wall to close the large metal door.

            “Dean-“ Sam hissed, pushing past him to turn out the light in that hallway. Their view of Chica disappeared, but neither one of them thought she had moved. “We only have limited power to get us through to 6 AM.”

            “Fucking big bird,” Dean hissed. “Check the cameras, check the cameras.”

            “Bonnie’s in the West Hall,” Sam answered, pursing his lips. Dean peered over his shoulder at the monitor, where he could distinctly see a bunny-shaped figure against the dim lighting of another room.

            “It looks like that rabbit from Donnie Darko,” Dean murmured as he pulled a flashlight out of his pocket. “Good thing we brought our own lighting.” He shone the flashlight into the hallway but nothing happened. Dean hit the top of the flashlight against the side of his leg and shone it into the darkness again, but Dean couldn’t see anything. It almost looked as though the darkness had swallowed the light whole.

            “Worthless,” Dean hissed. He hit the light switch against the wall carelessly to light up the West Hall only to see Bonnie standing in the doorway, no more than a foot away from his face. Her eyes were half-closed, a satisfied grin stretching across her plastic face. Its teeth seemed surprisingly small for the size of the face, and jutted out of the mouth at strange angles. Dean screamed louder this time, punching the door close button with his fist. He hit it so rapidly the door shut, opened, and then shut again. He grabbed at his chest, backing into a corner.

            “Okay, Dean, calm down,” Sam turned around to face him. “They’re just puppets.”

            “Yeah,” Dean replied, staring at Sam incredulously. “But it’s fucking creepy.” Sam turned around and hit the light switch for the East Hall. Chica was gone.

            “Okay, where did that thing go?” Sam asked himself as he turned the light switch off and sat down in front of the monitor.

            “Find it,” Dean hissed, pushing his back further into the wall.

            “Are you – are you really creeped out by this?” Sam asked. “Look, Dean, the doors are shut, they can’t get in.”

            Dean huffed, pulling at the ends of his jacket. He did his best to put on a brave face.  “How much power do we have left?”

            “Twelve percent,” Sam answered. “It’s about 5:30 now. We should have enough power to make it to morning.”

            “Thirty minutes,” Dean answered. “I can’t die this way, Sam. I’ve faced demons and vampires and actual, you know, monsters. I can’t die to some animatronic puppet.”

            “Interesting,” Sam said, looking at the monitor.

            “Interesting?” Dean asked, exasperated, as he ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, tell me, Sam. Please, do share with the rest of the class.”

            “Freddy hasn’t moved,” Sam answered. Dean stared at the monitor over Sam’s shoulder.

            “No, no, no, he’s moved,” Dean said. “Wasn’t he facing to the left before? Now he’s facing right.”

            “You sure?” Sam asked, staring at the camera. They were silent for a few moments, staring at the picture at Freddy on the screen, almost willing him to move. Suddenly, a loud alarm split through the air. It sounded almost like door chimes.

            “Holy shit,” Dean hissed as he jumped back. Sam laughed in spite of himself.

            “It means our shift is up, Dean,” Sam said. “We’re done.” He turned to Dean and lowered his voice. “You’ve survived night one.”

            “Dude, not funny,” Dean said as he pushed his brother’s shoulder.

            “Maybe next time we can actually, you know, explore the place and try to figure out what’s going on?” Sam asked. “Instead of just hiding in the security room the whole night?”

            “Right,” Dean nodded quickly. “Sure. I sure can.”


	2. NIGHT TWO

            Dean huffed as he once again pushed his back against the wall of the security office. Sam had taken too much joy in telling Bobby in extreme detail just how scared Dean was. Bobby, in typical fashion, had just called Dean an idjit under his breath and told the boys this was no different than anything else they had faced before.

            And so Dean, in an effort to prove himself, had told Sam that not only was he not afraid of the puppets, but would most definitely be walking around the spooky dark corridors in an attempt to find some sort of clue as to why the puppets were killing security guards. The Phone Guy had made it seem like they only stuffed the security guards into suits because they assumed they were metal exoskeletons, but that didn’t really make any sense. First of all, they weren’t trying to stuff customers into suits during the day. And if it was just a programming bug, well, that programming should be able to be reset, right? And that didn’t take into account the Bite of ’87. Sam did a little research the day before and discovered that the security guard at the time had worked the night shift before getting “promoted” to the day shift. No more than two hours into his first shift and- bam!- no more frontal lobe. It almost seemed like the puppets had some sort of vendetta against the night guard, but then again, if that was the case, it definitely meant something supernatural was going on. Robots don’t have vendettas. Angry spirits do.

            “You doing okay, Dean?” Sam asked as he set down his coffee on the table.

            Dean let out a breath, trying to seem annoyed. “Fine,” he replied. “Let’s do this.”

            As if on cue, the phone rang and the voice message started. “Uh, hello? Hello? Uh, well, if you’re hearing this and you made it to day two, congrats! I won’t talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses. Uh, it might be a good idea to peek at those cameras while I talk just to make sure everyone’s in their proper place. You know-“

            Sam set his coffee down so quickly a little bit sloshed over the edge as he pulled up the monitors. Dean didn’t even look. Instead, he immediately pulled out the bag of salt and quickly laid a line of rock salt in front of the entrance to each door as the Phone Guy’s voice droned on.

            “Interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn’t come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark though, so I guess that’s one more reason not to run out of power. I also want to emphasize the importance of using you door lights. There are blind spots in your camera view and those blind spots happen to be right outside your doors. So if you can’t find something, or someone, on your cameras, be sure to check the door lights. Uh, you might only have a few second to react. Uh, not that you would be in any danger, of course. I’m not implying that. Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there, Foxy, seems to be unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn’t like being watched. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m sure you have everything under control. Uh, talk to you soon.”

            The message faded to static before cutting out.

            “Foxy?” Dean asked before shaking his head. “So he’s holed up in Pirate’s Cove, huh?”

            “Yeah,” Sam replied. He pulled up the live feed of Pirate’s Cove. The curtain was pulled open a little bit, but it didn’t look like anyone was there.

            Dean sighed and peeked out into the dark hallway. “It looks like Bonnie’s in the West Hall already,” Sam said. Dean quickly pulled his head back inside. “Chica’s moved already too. She’s in the Dining Room.”

            “Where is she now?” Dean asked.

            “Uh-“ Sam hesitated, clicking through the live feeds. “I’m not sure.”

            “What do you mean you’re not sure?” Dean hissed.

            “Check the lights!” Sam almost yelled.

            Dean flicked on the right switch, peering into the East Hall. There was nothing. He went over to the other hallway and flicked the light switch. Bonnie was standing right in front of him. Eyes half-shut with that same snaggle-toothed grin.

            Dean remained totally silent as he moved his hand to the wall beside him and hit the switch, letting the door slide shut as it sealed them off from the West Hall.

            “It’s only 1 AM,” Sam said. Dean detected an edge to his voice.

            “Oh, so now you’re scared?” Dean asked.

            “A bit,” Sam replied, adjusting himself in his chair. “I still don’t see Foxy peeking out of Pirate’s Cove yet. But Chica’s moved. She’s in the Dining Room.”

            “What about the bear?” Dean asked. “Freddy move yet?”

            Sam pulled up the live feed for the show stage. Freddy was most definitely facing another direction.

            “Okay, go back to the Pirate’s Cove,” Dean instructed. No movement there. “Okay, go back to the dining-“ Chica was gone. Sam quickly opened and closed different windows, but he didn’t notice Chica on any of them. Dean got up quickly and checked the lights in the East Hall, but the hallway was empty.

            “Our battery is draining, Dean,” Sam hissed. “Check the door.”

            Dean huffed and opened up the door. Bonnie was still there. He shut the door again immediately, but not before noticing a fair bit of discharge around the eyes. The disgust from the smell he had suddenly noticed was almost enough to take away the fear entirely.

            “Chica’s in the bathroom,” Sam replied.

            “They let them go in the bathroom?” Dean asked. “Seriously, why couldn’t they just program them not to go into certain places. Like the bathroom? Or here for that matter?”

            “I don’t know how they’re programmed,” Sam replied as he shut the monitor. “Dean, it’s 3 AM and we only have 27% power left. Check the door again.”

            Dean opened the door but didn’t see anything. He flicked on the light switch, but the hall was empty. He took three steps to cross the narrow room and flipped on the other switch. Empty.

            “Okay, hallways empty,” Dean reported. “I’m going to go check things out.”

            “Don’t-“ Sam said quickly. Dean stopped and looked at him. “I mean, if I need someone to shut the door quickly-“

            “All right, fine.” Dean tried to seem annoyed but secretly? He had been hoping that Sam was just as scared as he was. And that seemed to be the case. “Check the monitors.”

            Foxy still had not peeped up from behind the curtain in Pirate’s Cove. Bonnie had slunk back to the supply closet just off the West Hall. Chica had slipped into the East Hall. Freddy hadn’t moved from when they checked on him last.

            “You hear something?” Dean asked, flipping the light switch for the West Hall. Bonnie was standing in the doorway again. This time her eyes were wide open, her mouth gaping wide. Dean punched the button to close the door with a closed fist. His hand ached but he barely noticed as he rushed to the other side of the room. There was nothing in the East Hall.

            “Check out the monitors, I need to know where that bitch is at,” Dean snarled to cover his fear.

            “I can’t, Dean,” Sam said quickly. “The power is draining too quickly. We have less than 20 percent power and it’s only 4 AM.”

            “Christ,” Dean muttered under his breath. “So what are we supposed to do? Just sit here and wait it out?”

            “What choice do we have?” Sam asked anxiously. Dean pressed his back into the wall, picking up the sawed off he had placed against the wall. The door to the West Hall still shut, he pointed the gun straight at the doorway to the East Hall. If Big Bird even tried to step inside, he was prepared to blow her feathers off.

            Suddenly there was a knock on the left door. Dean’s heart leapt into his throat as Sam left his position by the monitors to stand against the wall too, fishing a 9 mm out of the back of his pants. “The power just dropped two percent,” Sam noticed.

            “What?” Dean asked. “Are you trying to tell me that knock just zapped two percent of our power?”

            “Oh, I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said. The power was below ten percent now and it was just barely 5 AM. They weren’t going to make it. “Angry spirits zapping all the electricity for power? I’ve never heard of that before, have you?”

            “Shut up, Sam,” Dean hissed as they watched the power drop. Three percent. Two percent. One. Percent. Zero. Dean’s breath hitched as the door suddenly slid open. It was dead silent. It was dark on either side of them. He could hear Sam breathing quietly beside him, in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to stay calm.

            Suddenly a light shone in the hallway and Dean realized that he was staring at two large lit-up eyes and a wide toothy grin. Freddy. Music started playing from the hallway, a childish music-box like theme. Dean fired his sawed off, felt the recoil in his hands, but it appeared to have no effect. In the dim light, Dean could see Sam’s arm outstretched, slightly bent at the elbow, as he fired shot after shot. Freddy’s face did not move, the music did not stop.

            “Dean?” Sam asked nervously, but Dean didn’t know what to say. Suddenly the music stopped. Freddy’s face disappeared. Was that it? Was that the end? Maybe it was 6 AM already and Freddy had gone back to the show stage? Maybe the salt worked at keeping him out of the room?

            Suddenly something leapt out in the darkness and he could hear Sam cry out as he fell to the side. “Sam-“ Dean cried, when suddenly he felt something wrap around his legs and pull his legs out from under him with incredible force. His head snapped back, the back of his head striking the radiator that protruded from the wall behind him. His vision flashed white in front of him, and then all went black.

\---

            “Dean? Dean?” Far off in the distance, he could hear Sam’s voice calling out to him. He couldn’t feel his body, and yet he willed himself to move closer to the voice.

            Suddenly he opened his eyes and sat up. He was back in the motel, lying in his bed. Was it all just a dream then? A sudden shooting pain shot up the back of his skull and Dean grimaced. Nope, not a dream then. “What happened, Sammy?” Dean asked cautiously.

            Sam blinked, then his eyes drifted to the corner of the room. Dean slowly turned his head, trying to ignore the ache in his head as he glanced in the corner of the room. Castiel stood there, his face even.

            “Are you all right?” he asked at length.

            “Yeah I-” Dean winced again as the pain split through his skull. It felt like he had just been smacked in the head with an iron.

            Suddenly he could feel two fingers on his forehead. “Cas-“ He reached up to pull Cas’ hand away but didn’t as a soothing sense of relief washed over him. He closed, taking it in, and when he looked away again he realized that his hand was over Cas’. Castiel looked down at him, his blue eyes sparkling, a small smile playing on his lips.

            “Feel better?”

            Sam moved away from them, as if to give them space, which made Dean suddenly hyper aware that Cas was not only touching him, he was touching Cas, but that Cas was standing way too close.

            “Yeah, thanks Cas,” Dean said as he let his hand drop. Cas seemed to take the hint, which was rare for him, as he took a step back away from Dean’s bedside.

            “So.” Sam let out a breath. “Looks like salt doesn’t repel them. Not your typical vengeful spirit then.”  

            “Not necessarily,” Dean answered. “Remember? When the door shut it went all the way to the floor. It might have broken the salt line. I’m not sure.”

            “Great,” Sam huffed. “I’m going to do more research. See if maybe I can find someone who knows their programming code, find some way to shut them down so we can actually poke around the place.”

            “I’ll hit up the library,” Dean said. “Look through old archives. Kids went missing, but if any of them died on the premises, it could be our ticket for vengeful spirit.”

            He threw his legs off the bed and was about to stand up when a voice spoke up from behind them. “What about me? Is there anything I can do?”

            “You already saved us once, Cas,” Sam said. “And we couldn’t be more grateful for that, but-“

            “Actually,” Dean spoke up. “Actually, Cas, I think there is something you can do.” 


	3. NIGHT TWO (...again)

            Sam had reached out to the company several times, first as a concerned employee, then as a journalist praising them for their animatronics and asking to write an article about how they worked. He tried several different avenues, but all of them seemed to be dead ends. No one wanted to talk.

            Dean’s research turned up much more. There were four children who had went missing, but only one that died there. This one had taken some digging, as the child had not died in the pizzeria, although technically on the premises. Some kid was attending a birthday party when he went outside crying while the other kids were being served cake. A man wearing purple was driving by when he stopped outside the restaurant, got out of the car, murdered the child crying outside by stabbing him several times, and then got back in the car and drove off. Witnesses inside said that it appeared that it was a Fredbear employee due to his purple uniform, but no one could identify which employee and after a thorough investigation, no leads were ever found.

            “If it was an employee, it could explain the other four kids that went missing here,” Dean continued from inside the security office. “He killed them off and hid their bodies by stuffing them inside of the suits. Wires or not, they were already dead.”

            “That would explain some of the discharge I noticed around Chica’s eyes,” Sam said.

            “I noticed that on Bonnie too,” Dean confirmed. He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “Looks like vengeful spirit it is then. But that had to have happened, what, over twenty years ago? The bodies can’t still be inside the suits.”

            “No, but they’ve probably possessed the suits,” Sam answered. “It was probably a night guard from back then, which is why they’re so determined to kill us.”

            “Maybe a night guard they actually haven’t gotten to yet,” Dean observed. “I mean, hear me out, if they kill the guy that killed them, they’d move on, wouldn’t they? Find peace? Maybe after he stuffed them in suits he skipped town.”

            Sam cocked his head to the side. “Makes sense. So now they’re just killing indiscriminately, hoping that one of these night guards will be the right one?”

            “Best guess we have so far,” Dean answered. “Odds are we’re not going to find them, so I say we just come back during the day when they’re less active and salt and burn them.”

            “With all the people around?” Sam asked. “Good luck with that one, Dean.”

            “Okay, then,” Dean sighed. “You have a better plan?”

            “Yeah,” Sam said. “We keep up this job. As long as we’re doing it, we can make sure no one else is going to get killed. At least until we figure out a way to de-activate them for good. Then we can take them out back one night and burn them, they’re too dangerous to try to take them down when they’re all running around at night.”

            “Yeah,” Dean swallowed, mulling it over. “Yeah, okay.”

            “Only one question,” Castiel spoke up. “What am I doing here?”

            “You-“ Dean pointed to him and laughed a little under his breath. “You are here for uh, uh- Sam?”

            “Don’t ask me, you were the one insisting he come with,” Sam said, turning his attention to the monitors.

            “For protection,” Dean said loudly.

            Cas squinted at him, tilting his head to the side. “I am an Angel of the Lord. I am not here to perch on your shoulder and protect you from…from…robotic animals.” Sam shot Dean his “he has a point” look.

            “Come on, buddy,” Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder. “You saved us last time. We can’t do this without you.” He put both hands on Cas’ shoulders. “We’re a team, remember? Take one for the team? We got to do this together.”

            He looked Cas straight in the eye and didn’t stop until Cas eventually looked away. “Oh, all right.”

            Dean smiled victoriously as the phone rang and the tape clicked on. “Uh, hello? Hello? Uh, well, if you’re hearing this and you made it to day two, congrats! I won’t talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses. Uh, it might be a good idea to peek at those cameras while I talk just to make sure everyone’s in their proper place. You know-“

            Dean and Sam turned to look at each other. “Didn’t we already hear this tape yesterday?” Sam asked slowly.

            “Maybe we didn’t beat the night?” Dean asked. “I mean, Freddy did attack us last night. Maybe we have to finish the night in order to move onto the next one?”

            Sam shot him a look. “This isn’t a video game, Dean,” he said as he turned back to the monitors. Dean sighed and let his shoulder brush against Cas’ as the tape continued to talk.

            “So where we at?” Dean asked Sam as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them together.

            “Chica’s already moved into the dining room,” Sam replied.

            “So these things just walk around at night?” Cas asked. “I thought you said they were machines?”

            “They are,” Dean answered.

            “And yet they possess free will?” Cas asked again.

            “Well, we think they’re really spirits,” Sam said. “Inside the, uh, machines. I mean, yes the machines do move around on their own but we think these are uh, uh-“

            “Because they had people inside them?” Cas asked.

            “Yes, because they had people inside them,” Dean answered. Cas gave him a look, and Dean returned it for a moment, confused, before he realized what Cas meant. He opened his mouth, shut it, and looked away. Sam shook his head before looking back at the monitors.

            As Sam clicked around the monitors, Cas looked at Dean. “So this man, he murdered children, and stuffed their bodies into these, these robot suits?”

            “Looks like it,” Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

            Cas squinted his eyes again. “Why?”

            Dean opened his mouth. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Cas, there’s some sick people out there.”

            “Okay, Chica is in the bathroom,” Sam said quickly. “Bonnie is gone again.”

            “Pirate’s cove?” Dean asked.

            “Still no sign of Foxy,” Sam answered. “Maybe he’s shy.”

            Cas and Dean stood around awkwardly. For some reason, this was a lot less creepy than the previous night. Maybe the animatronics weren’t as active? That’s what it seemed like at least. It was 2 AM already and no one had popped up at the door. Last night it was only 1 AM when Bonnie popped by to visit.

            “I can’t find Bonnie,” Sam said. Dean stood up quickly and checked both lights.

            “Not here,” Dean answered. “You sure you aren’t missing anything?”

            Sam scrolled through each live feed carefully. “Oh, oh wait – she’s in the supply closet. Sorry, false alarm.” He continued scrolling through the live feeds. “Dean,” he almost shouted. “Chica. East Hall.”

            Dean slammed the door shut without even checking the lights.

            Sam huffed. “Dean, I have her on the monitor. Dean, open the door.” Reluctantly, Dean flipped on the light switch and opened the door. The hallway was empty. He peeked over at the monitor Sam was looking at. Sure enough, Chica was in the east hall. Her eyes were open wide and her beak was unhinged at a weird angle.

            “Keep an eye on her,” Dean said. “Also, where’d the rabbit go?”

            “Oh, she’s right here,” Cas replied. Dean looked up to see the rabbit’s ears poking into the room. Her eyes were wide open and her mouth was gaping open again in a sort of demented smile. Dean quickly slammed the door shut on the button to shut the door.

            “How much power we got?” he asked Sam.

            “59%,” Sam answered. “And it’s already 3:20 AM. We’re doing pretty good for time, Dean.”

            “Good, good,” Dean sighed with relief. Suddenly his voice became strict. “Cas, if you see, or hear, or, or sense one of these things coming, you have to shut the door okay? But only if it’s right in the doorway, we can’t afford to waste any power. If you think someone’s coming and you’re not sure, just check the lights, okay? Capisce?”

            “Yeah, I capisce,” Cas said glumly.

            “Hey, hey,” Dean said, putting a hand on his upper arm. “You’re doing great, really Cas, really.”

            Dean smiled at Cas, a knowingly smile, which Cas happily returned. Sam turned around to look at them before turning back to his monitors without saying a word, his eyebrows raised but his lips pursed shut.

            “Bonnie went back to the dining room,” Sam reported. Dean checked the lights to the West Hall and then opened the door. No one there.

            “Okay, good,” Dean sighed. “The more power to get us through the night, the better.”

            “Uh, Dean, she moved-“ Sam started.

            Castiel flipped on the light and Dean was about to yell at him to conserve power when he saw the familiar rabbit ears in the hallway again. Castiel quickly hit the switch to seal the door shut, and Dean nodded approvingly in his direction.

            “That was fast,” Dean said, turning to Sam. “Too fast. How the hell did he make it all the way to the dining room to here in less than a minute. If it’s a spirit, fine, but in a physical suit? How is that possible?”

            “Not sure, Dean,” Sam replied distractedly as he closed the monitors. “But we need to conserve power. If we keep the door shut and I stop checking the monitors as much, I think we should be good for the night.”

            They sat there in silence for a few minutes, before Castiel checked the light in the East Hall. There was no one there.

            “Sense something Cas?” Dean asked quietly.

            “No,” Cas said, looking down. “I just have that feeling you humans have? Of, unease?”

            Dean smiled softly in his direction and went to check the West Hall. The rabbit was gone. “Check the cameras.”

            Sam pulled up the monitor. Chica was still further back in the East Hall, same crazy expression in her eyes, her beak still unhinged. Bonnie was back in the dining room, but this time-

            “Dean?” Sam asked.

            Foxy had finally peaked out from behind the curtain in Pirate’s Cove. In the dim light, his eyes looked like they were glowing. His snout was poking out just past the curtain and his jaw was open wide to reveal a row of sharp, pointed teeth.

            “Just great,” Dean murmured. “Keep your eye on him. Phone Guy said if you keep checking in on him he won’t move as much.”

            “But the power-“  Sam started.

            “We should have enough to get us through the night,” Dean replied. “It’s almost 4 AM. Only two hours to go.”

            Sam closed the monitor and sighed sitting back. By the time it was 4 AM, they had reached 46% power. Sam checked the monitors again. Chica had moved back in the East Hall, which, Dean noted, the further away the better although apparently they could move at lightning speeds so it didn’t really matter how far away they were. Foxy was sitting still in Pirate’s Cove and Bonnie had taken up position in the West Hall.

            “Keep an eye on that door, Cas,” Dean said, pointing to the doorway. “Anything comes by, slam it shut.”

            “Is this really what hunting is like?” Castiel asked.

            Sam looked at Dean and laughed. “No,” Sam answered. “No, Cas, it’s usually much more, uh, Dean?”

            “Generally a lot more blood, carnage,” Dean shrugged his shoulders. “Usually a lot less sitting behind a screen-“

            “Although there was that bank in Milwaukee,” Sam pointed out. “Remember, that bank? With the shifter?”

            “Yeah,” Dean laughed. “I mean, let’s face it. How many times have we had to play security guards sitting back behind a screen? I think enough times to actually qualify us for an actual position if we ever wanted to give this hunting gig a rest.”

            Sam looked at the camera again. “Oh, looks like Bonnie’s moved into the West corner.”

            Dean checked his watch. “It’s almost 5 AM and we’re at 35% pow-ER.” He yelled as Bonnie popped into the doorway. Cas got up from where he had been sitting and rushed forward to shut the door.

            “Cas!” Dean yelled. “I thought I told you to keep an eye on things.”

            “I can’t find Chica,” Sam said. Dean sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Oh wait, nevermind, she’s in the- Dean?” Dean closed his eyes and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

            “What, Sam?”

            “Foxy’s on the loose.” Dean peered over Sam’s shoulder to see the Pirate Cove curtain opened wide.

            “Shit,” Dean cursed under his breath. “Okay, well find him, find him.” Sam opened the live feed of the West Hall, only to watch Foxy running down the hallway on its stiff robotic legs towards the office.

            “Close the door, close the door!” Dean yelled, spinning around.

            “It is shut,” Cas said defensively.

            “Keep it shut,” Dean said quietly. “Keep it shut, just, be quiet. It’s right outside, it’s got to be.”

            Dean crept quietly up to the door and stood outside of it, listening intently. Someone knocked three times and Dean could see the power drop down to 24%. Maybe they weren’t going to make it after all. Against his better judgement, he flicked on the lights to see Bonnie pressing her face against the security window in the West Hall. Dean quickly turned the lights off and took a deep breath.

            “Guess he doesn’t like light,” Sam said quietly. “Foxy’s back in Pirate Cove.”

            Dean flickered the lights again and opened the door. The West Hall was empty. “You-“ he pointed to Sam. “Keep an eye on Pirate’s Cove. We can’t let that thing get out again. And you-“ he pointed to Cas. “Man this door, okay? Nothing comes in.”

            “Nothing comes in,” Cas repeated, as Dean turned back to reviewing the monitors over Sam’s shoulder.

            “It’s 5:13 and we have 23% power,” Sam noticed. “We should be able to make it through the night if we’re conservative with the power.”

            “Yeah,” Dean said softly. Bonnie was back in the supply closet just outside the West Hall. “Oh, that one loves to play with us, doesn’t she?” Chica had abandoned her position in the East Hall to run back to the dining room, Foxy was still in Pirate Cove, and Freddy hadn’t actually moved off the sound stage, although he was directly facing the camera this time.

            “Freddy’s not really that active, is he?” Sam noticed. “Maybe he-“

            Suddenly the door slammed shut and Dean and Sam turned around to face Cas. “The rabbit,” he said in a grave voice.

            “Eighteen percent,” Sam said, rubbing his face with his hand. “Let’s just, keep that door shut for the rest of the night, okay Cas? Watch the other door, will you?”

            Cas nodded silently and went over to watch the other door. “It’s interesting, Dean,” Sam said. “Look at their patterns. Chica comes close, then runs away. Freddy hasn’t moved, and Bonnie just seems to be toying with us.”

            “What about that Foxy dude?” Dean asked. “I thought when we had the cameras on them they aren’t supposed to move.”

            “I guess they never gave him that memo,” Sam shrugged.

            “Just,” Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “Watch the monitors, okay Sam?”

            Dean sighed and sat down next to Castiel, their shoulders touching. “You doing okay?” Cas asked.

            “Me?” Dean asked, picking a bit of lint off the knee of Castiel’s pants. “I should be asking you that question.”

            “Sam told me you were frightened,” Cas replied.

            “Sam?” Dean laughed. “You should have seen him yesterday. Nearly peed his pants when Big Bird jumped in the window.”

            “Shut up, Dean,” Sam said loudly.

            “Don’t worry, Dean,” Cas said seriously. “I’ll protect you…both,” he added hastily when Sam turned around to look in their direction.

            “How about watching those monitors, Sammy?” Dean asked loudly as Sam huffed and turned back around. He smiled as he looked back at Cas. Cas offered him his hand and he took it gladly, letting their fingers intertwine naturally.

            Cas adjusted his position so that he could lean over and whisper in Dean’s ear. “Your palms are sweaty.”

            Dean smiled in spite of himself. He almost missed what Cas had even said to him, as he was too intensely focused on the way Cas’ lips had just barely brushed against Dean’s earlobe as he spoke.

            “Where are we at with power?” Dean asked loudly to distract himself, giving Cas’ hand a little squeeze.

            “Eight percent,” Sam said. “And it’s 5:52.”

            Dean turned to Cas. “Well, I’d say this is the easiest night we’ve had so far. Guess bringing my guardian angel as a good luck charm wasn’t such a bad idea, huh?” Cas smiled and looked away. Dean could almost swear that the angel was blushing. “So what do you say, Cas? You in? Coming back tomorrow night?”

            Cas looked at Dean and sighed. “Might as well,” he said reluctantly. Dean only laughed and squeezed his hand a little tighter. 


	4. NIGHT THREE

            “I’ve got a bad feeling about tonight,” Dean mumbled under his breath, playing with the collar of his jacket. It wasn’t so much the fear as it was the suspense that tied his stomach up into knots. He had barely even touched his food at dinner tonight, and Dean being stingy with his food was a rare thing.

            “I know what you mean,” Sam agreed. “They seem to be getting more restless as the nights progress, and we have no answers as to why.”

            “And the bear,” Dean added. “He still hasn’t left the show stage for whatever reason.”

            “Well, the place is called Freddy’s, after all,” Sam said. “Maybe he’s like, the leader or something? Sending Bonnie and Chicka out to scout us out, monitor our behavior, and then attack when-“

            “I thought you said these were the spirits of children,” Cas interjected. “How would children be able to plan and coordinate something like this?”

            “Oh, believe me Cas, kids can do some messed up shit,” Dean said. “Children of the Corn? The Omen?”

            “Well, in that last one, technically he-“

            “Sam!” Dean said loudly, and Sam stopped talking, holding his hands up in defeat. Dean was about to say something else as the phone started to ring.

            "Hello, hello? Hey, you’re doing great! Most people don’t last this long. I mean, you know, they usually move on to other things by now. I’m not implying that they died. Th-that’s not what I meant-“ Dean and Sam exchanged nervous glances. Cas furrowed his brow and instinctively took a step closer to Dean. “Uh, anyway, I better not take up too much of your time. Things start getting real tonight.”

            “Great,” Dean muttered through his teeth.

            “Uh, hey, listen, I had an idea: if you happen to get caught and want to avoid getting stuffed into a Freddy suit, uhh, try playing dead. You know, go limp. Then there’s a chance that, uh, maybe they’ll think that you’re an empty costume instead. Then again if they think you’re an empty costume, they might try to…stuff a metal skeleton into you. I wonder how that would work. Yeah, nevermind, scratch that. It’s best just to not get caught. Um…okay, I’ll leave you to it. See you on the flip side.”

            “Flip side?” Cas repeated slowly, but Dean just shook his head.

            “Cas, watch the left door,” Sam said as he pulled up the monitor, realizing that it was already 1 AM. Cas turned to Dean who nodded, and Cas took up his position to the door guarding the West Hall.

            “Give me positions, where is everybody at?” Dean asked, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

            “Big Bird is already in the dining hall,” Sam reported. “Wait, doesn’t Bonnie usually move first?”

            “I don’t know,” Dean sighed, turning away from the screens.

            “She’s gone again,” Sam said quickly.

            “Do you hear that?” Dean asked. “I thought I heard something. Cas?”

            “I-“

            “Foxy’s gone.”

            “Cas!”

            Cas flicked the lights and glared at him impatiently. Nothing there.

            “We can’t see what’s going on in the kitchen, maybe she’s in there,” Sam said quickly.

            Dean ran both hands through his hair at the same time. “We need to conserve the power. Where we at?”

            “77% left,” Sam said. “1:34 AM.”

            “Great,” Dean sighed. “Where’s Freddy? Still on stage?”

            “Yes,” Sam answered. “Bonnie’s in the kitchen, Foxy’s back in the Cove, I’m not sure where Freddy is-“

            “I thought you said he was just on the stage-“ Dean struggled to keep his voice down.

            “I-“ Sam started, but suddenly they heard a smash as Cas jumped across the room and smashed the button to close the right door, flicking the lights quickly so they could see Chica’s beak pressed up against the window, eyes wild and alert.

            “Big. Bird,” Cas said slowly.

            “Keep an eye on the bird,” Dean huffed, turning to Sam.

            “No one on the left?” Dean flicked the lights. Empty hallway. “Okay, good here.”

            “Foxy is still in the Cove,” Sam said. “Coming up on 3 AM and we’re at 57% power.”

            “Okay,” Dean said. “Okay, okay. So that’s more than halfway there. So we’re doing good, right?”

            “Yeah, I suppose,” Sam answered.

            Dean could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He quickly took Cas’ hand in his, fumbling to interlock their fingers.

            “Dean, are you sick?” Cas asked. “Your hands are quite clammy.”

            Sam turned to look, and Dean quickly yanked his hand out of Cas’. “Monitors, Sam!” Dean hissed through gritted teeth.

            “Fox still in the Cove,” Sam said.

            “Bugs Bunny?” Dean asked.

            “Um,” Sam hesitated, flicking through the cameras. Chica had retreated and Cas opened up the door just as two rabbit ears poked through the opposite doorway. “Dean!”

            “Got it,” Dean raced over, slamming the button with his forearm. The door slid shut, separating them from the giant mechanical robot rabbit that was trying to kill them. “Sam, I told you to keep an eye on the monitors.”

            “I am,” Sam said hotly, struggling to keep his voice under control. “But we have three people here. I’m watching the monitors, which leaves you and Cas to watch each door.”

            “We are,” Dean snapped.

            “Sure,” Sam said, pursing his lips together and nodding to himself.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, turning to face him.

            “Foxy’s still in the Cove,” Sam answered coolly. “Bunny’s back in the supply closet, you can open the door, Dean.”

            As the door slid open, Dean thought he could be sure he heard a laugh. Not a man’s laugh, or a child’s laugh. He couldn’t really put his finger on it. The more he tried to focus on trying to deconstruct the laugh itself, the more he realized he wasn’t even sure if he heard it at all.

            “4:47 AM, 31%,” Sam said. “We’re cutting it close. Easy on the lights, Cas.”

            “I thought you said Freddy was still unaccounted for,” Cas said.

            Sam did a quick check through the cameras. “Okay, okay, good call.”

            “No one else heard that?” Dean asked, looking from Cas to Sam.

            “Heard what?” Sam asked.

            “The laugh.”

            “No.”

            “Cas?” Dean turned to Cas again, but he merely just wrinkled his nose and checked the lights to the East Hall again.

            Dean checked the left door and then slammed it shut again. His hearing was starting to get fine-tuned to the tiny pit-pat the mechanics made as they approached the doorway. Eerie how they made such little sound otherwise. Even when they had seen Foxy running down the hallway with their very own eyes, they hadn’t heard anything. No crunch of gears or creak of metal. They may be supernaturally-possessed robots, but they were still just robots, right?

            “Big Bunny’s outside,” Dean said. “Freddy still camera shy?”        

            “Seems that way,” Sam mused. “Chica’s in the East Hall corner, keep an eye out Cas.”

            Cas just nodded, and Dean walked over and rubbed his upper arm affectionately.

            “It’s 5 AM, 23% power left,” Sam reported. “I think we will be okay if we leave the left door shut and you two can manage the right door.”

            “That’s fine,” Dean said. He left his hand drop and felt his knuckles brush against the back of Cas’ hand.

            “Foxy’s been holed up in the Cove,” Sam said. “Bonnie’s back in the supply closet.”

            “Long Ears got scared off, eh?” Dean asked, checking the lights as he opened the door. The hallway was indeed empty.

            “Keep it open. No need to waste power if we don’t have to,” Sam sighed. “Still an hour to go.”

            “One more hour,” Dean hummed under his breath. He let his eyes drift over to Cas, who was intently peering into the darkness, checking the lights every twelve seconds like clockwork.

            “Foxy’s gone,” Sam said suddenly. At the same time, Dean thought he heard a boom, although he couldn’t tell where in the restaurant it was coming from. Even still, his hand smashed the door close button, just to be safe.

            At the same time, Cas closed the right side door. Chica was right outside.

            “I thought if you watched the Cove it would keep the Big Bad Wolf in place,” Dean huffed.

            “I have been,” Sam said, clearly frustrated. “Maybe we were watching him too much? He didn’t like it?”

            Dean sighed and ran his hand through his hair and turned to Cas. He had his head tilted up and to the side, eyebrows narrowed as he squinted, deep in thought.

            “Cas, what is it?”

            “I thought Foxy was a fox,” Cas said.

            “And?”

            “You just called him a wolf.”

            Dean laughed, but it came out as a stifled, nervous chuckle that ended just as soon as it had passed his lips. He couldn’t be sure if he had heard a laugh earlier, but the knock on the door was unmistakable.  

            “We’re at 15%,” Sam noticed. “Flash the lights, Dean. It’ll scare Foxy off so you can open the door.”

            Dean did so, although he didn’t like the door being open. Even just the one. Freddy was still unaccounted for, and it was beginning to freak him out. What if the little creep had managed to sneak into the office when they had their backs turned? He felt a cold shudder run through him, and he noticed that even though Cas was watching the dark window out into the East Hall intently, Cas took a step backwards, closer to him.

            “Is the bird gone yet?” Sam asked. Cas flicked the lights and the bird was, indeed, gone. “Okay, open the door, Cas. We have 8% to last us and we still have fifteen minutes to go.” Cas obediently opened the door, flashing the lights once more for good measure. The power dropped to seven percent.

            “Where’s everybody else?” Dean asked.

            “Well, Foxy’s back behind the curtain,” Sam noted. “Bonnie’s in the supply closet, Chica’s further back up the East Hall and Freddy went back to the stage. So they’re all accounted for.”

            “Okay,” Dean sighed. “Guess they’re calling it a night, then.”

            “Just-“ Sam gestured with his hand.

            “I know, I know, we’re still being cautious,” Dean huffed, checking the lights one more time. As if Sam had to tell him twice. “You okay, Cas?”

            “What?”

            “I asked if you were okay.”

            “Fine,” Cas sighed. “It’s just-“ He shook his head and looked away.

            “What is it, Cas?” Sam asked, craning his neck to look at him.

            Cas turned to look at both of them. “Hunting is boring.”

            Dean laughed this time, a real one, and Sam joined in, although they both might have been laughing out of relief, for it was now 6 AM. “Come on, Cas,” Dean threw an arm around Cas’ shoulder, Sam’s smart looks be damned. “I’m hungry, anybody hungry? Let’s go grab a burger.”

            “Oh, now you’re hungry?” Sam asked, standing up and stretching his legs.

            “Very,” Dean said. “Come on, Cas.” He slapped Cas on the back and steered him through the open doorway. “I’ll even let you have some of my fries.”


	5. NIGHT FOUR

            “I’ve got a good feeling about tonight,” Dean said, rubbing his hands together. Earlier, he had sent Sam out to get some food and told him not to hurry back, to take some time to smell the fresh air. Sam had stared at him skeptically, but Dean had merely smiled at him without showing any teeth.

            “You won’t be bored here by yourself?” Sam had asked.

            “Oh, no, I’ll uh, get some reading done,” Dean had replied. “I’m sure Cas will pop in soon anyway.”

            Sam had just nodded at him before stepping out the door. When he came back two hours later, Dean was sitting on the bed in a different shirt. His hair was wet. So was Cas’. He said nothing.

            “Well, you’re in a good mood tonight,” Sam said as he sat down his coffee and settled into his chair. Dean looked sideways as Cas and raised his eyebrows slightly. The corner of his mouth pulled into a lopsided smirk and Cas smiled faintly as he met Dean’s gaze, looking down and then away.

            Sam pushed down the laugh that was rising in his throat and ended up coughing instead, blaming it on the coffee he hadn’t yet touched as the recording clicked on.

            “Hello, hello? Hey! Hey, wow, day four. I knew you could do it.”

            “Yay us,” Dean said flatly, glancing at Cas, who smiled broadly back at him now that Sam had his back turned.

            “Uh, hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow.” A banging sound could be heard in the background, and Dean furrowed his brow. “It’s-it’s been a bad night here for me. Um, I-I’m kind of glad that I recorded my messages for you, uh, when I did.” The banging was getting louder now. “Uh, hey, do me a favor. Maybe, sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room? I’m going to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad.” The banging was starting to get so loud it was drowning out his words. “Uh, I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there.” The sound of a chime playing could be heard through the recording, but Dean glanced around nervously anyway, just to be sure. “You know, oh, no-“ Suddenly there was the sound of a scuffle. An animatronic screech, not unlike the one they heard when they were jumped their second night, and then the recording cut to static.

            After a few moments of silence, Dean was the first one to speak. “I take it back. This is going to be a bad night.”

            “We need to check out the back room,” Sam said quickly.

            “The back room?” Dean repeated. “Sam, Phone Guy wanted to look into the back room and that’s when they killed him. Did you hear the banging?”

            “It was more than one of them,” Sam agreed. “So what do you think? They teamed up? Group effort?”

            “Maybe,” Dean spread his hands. “I don’t know, they’ve been attacking us one at a time so far. But if we go out there-“

            “I can go,” Cas suggested.

            “No,” Dean said a little too fast, spinning on his heel. “No, you stay here, with us.”

            “Dean-“ Sam started.

            “No, it’s too dangerous,” Dean said. “Besides, we need you here. Eyes on both doors, remember?”

            “Dean-“ Sam said again.

            “Check the cameras,” Dean said finally. End of discussion.

            “It’s not even 1 AM and Foxy’s already coming out,” Sam said. On the screen, Foxy was already halfway off the stage, paused in mid-run.

            “Conserve the power,” Dean said in a low voice, looking in Cas’ direction. Cas sulked, turning away and saying nothing. “Oh come on-“

            “I can go, Dean,” Cas said in a gravelly voice as he turned back towards Dean. “I’m an angel, you ass. You can see me on the cameras. I’ll be fine.”

            “We don’t know what’s in that back room-“ Dean started.

            “I’ll find out, and I’ll let you know,” Cas said. He took a step closer to Dean, his face hovering just in front of Dean’s. Dean’s bright green eyes dropped from Cas’ eyes, to his lips, then back up again. His breathing became shallow as he stared into Cas’ fervent ocean-blue eyes. Cas inclined his head ever so slowly in what could barely be called a nod before he turned and walked wordlessly out of the room. Dean blinked a few times and sucked the air into his lungs before exhaling loudly through his nose.

            “You okay?” Sam asked.

            “Pull up the monitors,” Dean said quickly, walking over to Sam. “Follow him.”

            “Dean, we can’t waste the power.”

            “Sam-“

            “Dean, it just turned 1 AM and we only have 87% battery left,” Sam said. “Dean, he’ll be fine.”

            Dean’s nostrils flared. “Check the others.”

            “Foxy hasn’t moved. Just man both lights, okay? I don’t want to waste all the power on the monitors,” Sam said.

            Dean bit his tongue and checked both lights. Both hallways were dark. He didn’t hear anything, although he couldn’t be sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

            Sam sighed, idly moving the camera back towards the Cove. “Dean, Foxy’s gone.” He flicked the camera over to the West Hall just in time to catch Foxy sprinting towards the office door. Dean rushed and closed the door literally just in time. He could see the blood-smeared snout on Foxy’s fur as the door just managed to close, trapping it outside. There was a bang on the door, and Dean watched the power drop a full percent over Sam’s shoulder. Dean flicked the lights twice and opened the door. Foxy was gone.

            “Back in the Cove,” Sam sighed, scratching behind his ear uncomfortably. “That was a close call, Dean.”

            “Tell me about it,” he murmured. “No sign of Cas on the monitors?”

            “Thought I saw him around the East Hall,” Sam answered. “Though how does he know where to go?”

            “He doesn’t,” Dean muttered, trying not to think about it.

            “But what if there’s another animatronic we don’t know about in the back room?” Sam asked. “Maybe one more violent so it’s confined back there-“

            “It’s Cas, okay?” Dean asked sternly. “You heard him, he’s an angel. He’ll be fine.”

            “Foxy’s coming out again,” Sam said, pulling up the feed that showed Foxy at a mid-run off the Cove stage.

            “Like we don’t have enough to worry about,” Dean muttered.

            “As soon as he comes, get ready to close that door,” Sam said.

            Dean stood by the West Hall doorway; hand on the door button, while Sam periodically checked the monitor to make sure Foxy hadn’t moved. He didn’t check any other cameras to save power.

            Suddenly Dean heard a laugh off to his right and quickly shut the door. “Did you hear it that time?”

            “Hear what?” Sam asked. “Chica outside?”

            “No, the laugh,” Dean said. “Freddy’s laugh.”

            “I-“ Sam shook his head, making sure Foxy was still there. “I didn’t hear anything Dean. Open the door, we need to save power.”

            Dean reluctantly opened the door as he flicked the lights, making sure there was nothing in the hallway. But he had heard a laugh. This time, he was sure of it. Freddy was out and about tonight – what if he had found Cas?

            “Bonnie’s in the supply closet,” Sam reported. “And-“ He paused. Now he heard it too. A deep belly-laugh _hue-hue-hue_ that didn’t sound completely human. It sounded…distorted. Mechanical. Dean slammed the East Hall door shut again and waited a few moments before flicking on the light. Nothing there.

            “I need to go after Cas,” Dean said. “2 AM and he’s still not back.”

            “You can’t leave,” Sam said hotly. “Freddy’s not joking around tonight, Bonnie is in the closet down the hall, Chica’s probably in the restroom or something and Foxy’s just five seconds away from tearing my frontal lobe off. What if I can’t get to the door in time?” Dean pursed his lips. They hadn’t seen Chica yet. What if she had gone after Cas?

“He can take care of himself, Dean,” Sam said, as if he had known exactly what Dean had been thinking.

            Suddenly there was a low mechanical rumbling outside and Dean checked the lights. Bonnie was standing directly outside the West Hall door. Dean tapped the button lightly, watching the door slide shut. He went over to the other door and opened it, flashing the lights quickly to make sure Chica wasn’t there.

            “Take a look at this,” Sam said, gesturing for Dean to hurry. Dean hesitated, glancing at the open dark corridor before joining Sam at the monitor. Chica was in the restroom, all right, but something was wrong. It’s head was twitching like it had a nervous tick. It glared at the camera with unblinking sullen eyes, his head twitching to the side every two seconds. _Twitch twitch. Twitch twitch._

            “Maybe it attacked Cas,” Dean said. “Maybe he uh, smashed it over the head and got away or something.”

            “I thought I noticed Bonnie doing it too,” Sam said. “In the supply closet. I only saw it quick so I thought I imagined it, but if Chica’s doing it too-“

            “What, they’re literally becoming twitchy now?” Dean asked. “Twitchy for what? Revenge? Blood? What is it they’re after?”

            “Still trying to figure that out,” Sam said lightly as he skimmed the monitor over the Cove again to hold Foxy in place. “I can’t find what they did with the kids’ bodies, and we’re here all night so we can’t exactly head out to the local cemeteries and check to see if there’s any empty coffins. We can’t even get a name or a fixed number of how many kids there were.”

            “Then what are we supposed to do?” Dean asked.

            “I’ll call Bobby again in the morning,” Sam sighed. “Dean. Door!” Dean closed the right door. “No, Dean the other-“ But the door was already shut to protect them from the evil mechanical rabbit when the evil mechanical fox came forward and knocked twice. The power dropped six percent.

            “Great,” Dean laughed. “Just great. You want Cas to go off and explore some maybe-empty costumes. He’s not back yet, and we have to survive three and a half hours on forty-nine percent power.”

            “Dean-“

            “We’re not going to be able to do this,” Dean said. “We’re not going to be able to do this and if something happened to Cas, even he’s not going to be able to save us this time.”

            “Well, then we fight,” Sam said. “We brought the bag.”

            “Yeah, a lot of good a bunch of hammers and crowbars are going to do us if those things jump us at the same time,” Dean huffed.

            Dean heard the laugh again and punched the right door shut angrily. He flicked the lights and opened the door, then did the same to the left door.

            “Foxy’s back in the Cove,” Sam said. “Chica is gone – no, wait – Chica’s in the East Hall, um, I can’t find Bonnie.”

            “Well, he-“

            “Shit,” Sam huffed. “Foxy’s already coming out of the Cove. Again.”

            “Isn’t that the third time tonight?” Dean asked. “What’s his deal?”

            “Maybe he senses Cas roaming around?” Sam asked.

            “He should be back by now,” Dean said, glancing at the time. It was almost four now.

            “Foxy’s staying put, Bonnie’s in the supply closet-“ Sam started but shut his mouth immediately as the laughter started again. Not one laugh, but two this time. _Hue-hue-hue. Hue-hue-hue._

            Dean slammed the right door shut, then checked the lights and opened it again.

            “Dean, look-“ Sam pointed at the East Hall corner monitor. Freddy was standing there, a teddy-bear shaped shadow with two white glowing eyes.

            Dean cursed under his breath. “So he’s right there, Foxy’s going to make a run for it any second now, and Cas is MIA. Could it be any worse?”

            “It just turned 4 AM and we are at 32% power,” Sam said. “I think tonight we’re going to have to fight our way out of here.”

            Dean turned around briefly just to pull a crowbar out of his bag, feeling better with it already in his hand. “I need to look for Cas, man. Something ain’t right, and we may need him to get out of here.”

            “Dean, you can’t leave me,” Sam said quickly.

            “Scared?” Dean asked teasingly.

            “Dude,” Sam said, spreading his hands.

            “Okay, okay,” Dean said, scratching the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. “Look, this whole situation stinks. I say we come back tomorrow night and just torch the place.”

            “And put the company out of business?” Sam asked. “And put all these employees out of work?”

            “Hey, it’s not really an honest living when you have to replace all your night guards on a weekly basis,” Dean said. “The cost of all those carpet-replacements alone-“

            “Dean, door!” Sam yelled and Dean smashed the button shut just in time.

            “Okay, I see your point,” Dean breathed. Foxy banged several times on the door and the power dropped down to eleven percent. Dean glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even 5 AM. They were dead men standing.

            Dean flashed the lights and opened the door, expecting to see nothing, but his heart seized when he realized that Bonnie was standing directly in the doorway. He let a brief strangled cry escape from his throat as he slammed the door closed.

            “Here you go,” Dean said, dumping the bag of tools on the floor next to Sam. Freddy laughed, and Dean checked the door and the lights methodically. No one there.

            “5 AM, 5%,” Sam said. “Did we bring the blowtorch?”

            “Uhhh-“ Dean searched through the scattered mess of weapons on the floor. “Shit, I think I left it in the trunk.”

            “Dean-“ Sam hissed, then tapped him twice on the shoulder and pointed to the right door to show he heard something.

            Dean got up and checked the lights. Chica was right outside.

            He shut the door.

            Four percent.

            He waited a few minutes, then checked the lights.

            Chica was gone.

            He opened the door.

            Three percent.

            He thought he heard something at the left door.

            He checked the light.

            No one there.

            Freddy laughed.

            He closed the right door.

            One percent.

            Sam got up from the monitor, a hammer in one hand and an axe in the other. Dean grabbed his crowbar in both hands. Instead of cowering against the wall, they stood back to back, Sam facing the left door and Dean facing the right.

            “It was nice knowing you, Sammy,” Dean said. He could hear Sam exhale loudly, but he said nothing. This was it. Cas was probably dead, stuffed into a suit in the back room like they were about to be. Then Sam would be dead. Then he would be dead. And then he would be carted off down to hell. Again. He hadn’t really thought about that. He put it out of his mind whenever possible, like any sane person would try to do, but when it got right back down to it, he was going to die and this time there would be no body to bring him back into. No way to resurrect a body that had its face smashed in by a buttload of metal wires-

            Zero percent. The power went out. There was a pause. The right door slid open.

            “Don’t move,” Sam said under his breath. “If we don’t move, maybe they won’t see us.”

            It sounded like the stupidest plan Sam had ever come up with, but Dean himself had thought of worse plans himself, and so they stood frozen in the darkness, back to back, breathing shallowly out of their noses.

            Suddenly, out of the darkness, Freddy laughed. It sounded like it was coming from the right door, but suddenly Freddy’s eyes and smile lit up on Sam’s side. The music box started playing its child-like tune, and Dean tightened his grip on his crowbar. But they didn’t move. Sam kept his eyes closed, not even daring to look at it. Maybe if he didn’t see it, it wouldn’t see him. Child’s logic, but this _was_ a child’s playground, wasn’t it? But he could still hear the music box, droning on and on, and for some reason Dean realized that the music was playing longer than before.

            And then, just like that, the music went off. Freddy’s face disappeared. Sam kept his eyes shut, listening intently to every sound around him, even Dean’s breathing, which in his opinion Dean was doing far too loudly. They waited. They stood perfectly still. Waiting for Freddy or whoever to strike first. They waited. Dean stared into paralyzing darkness. Waiting-

            The clock hit 6 AM and the chime rang to signal the end of their shift. They stood frozen in confusion for another moment until the day power source kicked on.

            “We made that by-“ Dean pinched his index finger and thumb together. “-that close. Quarter of a second.” He threw his arm around Sammy, pulling him into a half hug. “Didn’t think we were going to make it there.”

            “I know, you kept saying,” Sam said. For some reason, he still looked nervous.

            “What?”

            “Cas…”

            The smile slipped off Dean’s face in an instant. How had he-?

            Dean threw the weapons back in the sack as fast as possible and slipped it over his right shoulder, heading out the right door. He had just about made it to the back room when the day manager came in. “What are you two doing?”

            “Me?” Dean asked. “Oh, we were just, uh, just wanted to check-“

            “You’re not allowed back there,” the day manager said, putting his hands on his hips. “Your shift is over, get out of here.”

            “Okay, but first-“

            “Do I have to call security?” he asked in a high-pitched nasally voice.

            “We-we are the security,” Sam said quietly. The day manager just blinked at him.

            “You won’t be for much longer if you two don’t get out of here right now,” the day manager said, pointing at the door.

            “Fine, fine,” Dean said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. As he was walking towards the door, he stole a glance at Freddy, who was leering at him from the stage. _Smug little son of a bitch._

            As the door clanged shut with a little chime behind them, Dean raked the cold morning air into his lungs.

            “What are we going to do, Dean?” Sam asked. “He-“

            Suddenly there was a soft woosh of the wind blowing gently, and Dean spun around to see Cas standing there, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Cas-“

            He rushed forward and grabbed Cas’ face in both hands, almost toppling him over. He stood there for a moment, feeling Cas’ light stubble against his palms, taking him in. He was here. He was safe.

            Sam cleared his throat, and Dean almost pushed Cas away in his scramble for distance. Suddenly his relief turned to anger. “We were almost mush-meat in there. What the hell happened to you?”

            “I-uh,” Castiel shrugged sheepishly. “I was attacked, from behind. The, Big Bird, as you say, attacked me. I tried to exorcise it but nothing happened. I was trying to get into the back room and that’s when Freddy jumped out at me.”

            “Are you okay?” Sam asked.

            “I-“ Castiel looked down at his shoes and then up at the sky, swirling his finger around to show that he had gotten the hell out of dodge.

            “So you just left us?” Dean asked incredulously, eyes wide.

            “I was going to come back,” Cas said. “But when I was ready to come down I heard Sam telling you to just stay still, not to move. I didn’t want to…make you move.”

            “Cas-“ Dean lowered his head and clapped Cas’ shoulder, squeezing it so tightly his knuckles turned white, but only for a moment.

            “Tomorrow night, I will be much more useful,” Cas said, looking up at him. He looked so earnest and eager, like a child determined to prove he could do something right. Dean wouldn’t say it, but it broke his heart whenever Cas looked at him like that. He looked so fucking innocent.

            “No, tomorrow night, we-“ Dean dropped his voice to make sure the day manager couldn’t hear. “We torch the suckers.”

            “Give it one more day,” Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes. “I’ll get Bobby on the phone, we’ll get him out here, figure something out. Four against four.”

            Dean sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Fine, call Bobby, see what he says. He’ll tell you I’m right.”

            “We’ll see,” Sam said, pursing his lips as he climbed into the passenger side of the Impala.

            Dean sighed and turned back to Cas. “You coming with?”

            Cas bit his lower lip and looked down at his shoes before looking back at Dean and raising his eyebrows to ask, _‘Am I forgiven yet?’_ Dean sighed and clapped Cas on the shoulder, steering him towards the car. “Come on, Cas. Let’s get out of here.” 


	6. NIGHT FIVE

            Bobby, as it turns out, not only was on another case, but also had absolutely no interest in battling supernatural robotic puppets that thrived on children’s laughter and the blood of maybe-not-so-innocent security guards. Bobby thought it was obvious: a security guard killed the missing kids, stuffed their bodies into suits, and now the puppets were taking revenge on any security guard that crossed their path. So with that said, there were only two things to do: find a security guard who worked there who was still alive, as he was probably the guilty party and use him as bait, or just find a way to shut the puppets down for good.

            But there was a problem with that. The job paid in cash, off the books, and so the record of previous security guards who worked there was non-existent. No doubt there was a reason for that. Made it a lot harder to actually establish who had died there and thus limited any liability the company would have over the disappearances. Which left only one option: torch the suckers.

            “So this is the plan,” Dean said as they entered the security office that night. “Me and Cas will go out and torch them one at a time. Sam, you stay here and watch the monitors. Keep the doors shut, stay in touch, and Smokey the Bear will be gone before sunrise.”

            “I don’t know about this, Dean,” Sam said. “I have a bad feeling about tonight. We should wait out the night and then torch them at sunrise.”

            “Right as the day staff shows up?” Dean asked.

            “Electrical malfunction,” Sam countered. “We smelled smoke; fire must have started in the kitchen. By the time anyone looks into anything, we’re already on the road.”

            Dean sighed. It wasn’t a bad plan. The truth was, he almost wanted to go in there during the day, evacuate the building and then torch the sucker down then. But- “Phone Guy wanted us to go into that back room, right? He thought something was in there-“

            “But what could be in there?” Sam asked. “I mean, do you really think the day staff are keeping the dead bodies of children locked up by there?”

            Dean paused. “Can the puppets access that room?”

            A puzzled expression crossed Sam’s face. “I-I’m not sure.”

            Suddenly Cas pressed his fingers to his temple and sagged back against Dean. “Woah, woah,” Dean said, putting a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “You okay, buddy? What’s wrong?”

            “I-“ Cas stuttered, shaking his head.

            Suddenly there was a click, and a recording started. At first, there was only static.

            “How can there be another message?” Sam mused under his breath. “Isn’t-isn’t Phone Guy dead?”

            “I don’t like this,” Dean murmured as a disembodied voice started to speak.

            “(Sir,) it is lamentable that mass agricultural development is (not) speeded by fuller use of your marvelous mechanisms. Would it not be easily possible to employ some of them in quick laboratory experiments to indicate the influence of various types of fertilizers on plant growth? You are right. Countless uses (of Bose instruments) will be made by future gener(ations. The scientist) seldom knows contemporaneous (reward; it is enough to possess) the joy of creative service.”

            “What the hell was that?” Dean demanded as the tape clicked off. Cas pulled his hand away from his temple and glanced at him with a concerned expression, his lips pressed shut tightly in concern.

            “That’s from, um,” Sam gestured in the hair emphatically. “It’s from, um, damn, uh…auto-Autobiography of a Yogi?”

            “Yogi?” Dean blinked at him. “Like, what? Yogi bear? Don’t start forest fires Yogi bear?”

            Sam lowered his eyes at Dean. “Yogi-“

            “Yogi Berra?”

            Sam rolled his eyes. “No, Dean. It’s a book. By Paramhansa Yogananda.”

            “Okay,” Dean clucked his tongue. “So what is that? You mind enlightening me?”

            “Well, that’s the thing, Dean,” Sam gulped nervously. “That’s the thing. It’s _about_ enlightenment. It was written about a guy from India in the 1930’s? 40’s? About finding enlightenment and God and soul-searching through meditation and-“

            “Okay, so what are you saying?” Dean asked.

            “Well, uh,” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “A bunch of kids wouldn’t have read this so that means-“

            “That means we’re dealing with something else,” Dean finished for him.

            “Although-“ Sam’s eyebrows were knotted in deep thought. “There’s something else. This was from a passage about, about metal. Uh, something about metal having a life force. Like the metal is-“

            “Alive?” Dean blinked. “So what, these things are trying to tell us that they’re alive?”

            “So what you are trying to say,” Cas said. “Is that these are not the dead spirits of children in these costumes? That the costumes themselves are alive?”

            “Would look that way,” Dean answered. “And if that’s the case, that means-“

            “Sam,” Cas turned to him sharply. “Have you been checking the monitors?”

            Dean had just enough time to clear the lump in his throat when he was flown forward as Foxy sprung through the West Hall door. Cas was beside him in an instant, slamming the door closed button with his elbow as he pulled Dean to the side.

            Dean rolled over onto his back, fingers desperately grasping the back of Cas’ coat to help him sit up. “Is it-?” Dean meant to say _gone_ , meant to say, _outside_ , but instead all he could say was-

            “What the hell?” Well, Sam said it for him.

            He hadn’t even heard the crunch of metal as the door closed shut on Foxy, essentially slicing him in half.

            “Well, they may be sentient but they’re certainly not smart,” Sam almost laughed as he bent over the twitching head of Foxy. Dean grabbed a crowbar out of the bag behind him and smashed the head in once, twice, three times, but it didn’t even leave a dent.

            “What the hell?” Dean asked, checking his crowbar.

            “Dean, I don’t like this,” Cas said, pulling at his elbow, pulling him away from Foxy. The head had started to sing softly, “hum-hum, hum-dum-dum, hum-hum, hummmm—zz---hummm-“

            “We should get out of here,” Dean said quickly.

            “You think they’re going to let us leave? Dean?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows. He took a deep breath in and tried to close the other door. It didn’t budge. “What the-?”

            “Okay, we need to think here,” Dean said. “So if they’re not the spirits of children-“

            “Maybe they are?” Sam argued. “Maybe they’ve children’s souls that have become…twisted? Maybe-“

            “I thought you said these were sentient robots,” Cas interrupted.

            “Okay, I think we can agree that we don’t know jack,” Dean said quickly.

            “Have we ever heard of a demon possessing an animatronic before?” Sam asked.

            “I don’t believe demons can construct their own vessels,” Castiel started. “If they could-“

            “This is getting ridiculous,” Dean wiped at his eye with the back of his hand. “Maybe if we can get into the back room we can find a way to disable them.”

            “Disable them?” Sam asked. “How?”

            “Well-“ Dean reached into the bag behind him and pulled out a gas can. “I think we can think of a way.”

            Sam swallowed a lump in his throat. “You ready to do this?”

            Dean clasped his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Got my guardian angel, right here.”

            “So what’s the plan?” Sam asked.

            “Well,” Dean handed Sam the gas can. “I lead, you splash.”

            “And me?” Cas asked.

            “Cover my rear,” Dean answered, quickly tuning a wink into a blink in case Sam was watching.

            As he handed Sam the bag of weapons with the other gas cans, he thought he heard Cas murmur, “Not a problem.”

            “Okay, here we go,” Dean said, stepping over the twitching head of Foxy, axe raised in front of his face.

            “If that crowbar didn’t work, what makes you think an axe will?” Sam asked, following Dean out of the room.

            “Well,” Dean cocked his head to the side. “Let’s just call it wishful thinking.”

            They walked down the West Hall, past the supply closet, past the main dining area, past Pirate’s Cove on the left. The curtain was open, and a small sign saying, “It’s Me” was planted in front of it. No time to stop and ask what that meant. They continued past it and was just about to enter the back room when Dean stopped. In the dim light, didn’t the doorway look just a little bit…darker than the rest of the area? Suddenly he froze. Bunny ears.

            “Sam,” he hissed.

            “I see her,” Sam responded.

            “See-?” Dean paused, when suddenly there was the sound of metal clattering to the floor. He spun around just in time to see Sam knocked to the ground and Castiel holding up his hand to Chica’s face, his eyes glowing blue. Chica didn’t move, just stared back at him with her cold, lifeless eyes.

            Nothing happened.

            Until Chica knocked Cas to the side. Dean rushed forward with his axe raised high over his head, ready to pound Big Bird’s stupid face into oblivion when he felt something snake around his ankle and he fell face first into the hard tile floor. The first thing that hit him was the heavy scent of gasoline filling his nostrils, and he rolled his head to the right into a thick puddle of the stuff.

            “Sam-“ Dean murmured as he felt something tug on his ankle. He was being pulled. His vision was tunneled, blacking before his eyes, and he saw the silhouette of Freddy Fazbear standing on the stage before he was pulled into the back room.

            He rolled over as he heard a mechanic creak and realized exactly why he never wanted to be in this room. Spare parts, spare heads, of all the animatronics were stacked neatly on shelves. Except for one, which was propped up neatly on a metal table in the center of the room. The puppet bent over and seemed to adjust it…preparing it.

            “Oh no-“ Dean tried to stand up and slipped, wincing as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

            His head swam in front of him, and he tried to back himself out of the room when he backed into something solid. The wall? He turned slightly and realized too late as the rough metal hands grabbed him that he had backed into Freddy himself.

            “Oh no,” Dean struggled limply as he was pushed forward. “Fuck you, Freddy. You are not going to turn me into fucking Paddington.”

            He struggled in the metallic grip that lifted him up, mechanically, to his feet. Dean twisted and squirmed his shoulders, trying to free himself.

            “DEAN GET DOWN!”

            The second Sam’s voice filled his ears, there was a bright flash of light and Dean could literally feel the grip around his arms go slack. He struggled free and fell face-first again; if it wasn’t before, his nose was probably definitely broken.

            He felt something grab him again, but this grip was different: warm. He looked up straight into Cas’ blue eyes and breathed in a sigh of relief as Cas pulled him to his feet and over his shoulder, pulling him out of the room. He ran past Sam who was pouring gasoline into the room…and lit a match.

            Sam lit it up and ran after them, towards the doors. Dean could see the yellow bits of metal of what used to be Chica all over the floor. From over Cas’ shoulder, Dean could see Freddy burning. He was struggling to get out of the room but kept bumping into the doorway, like he couldn’t quite get the pathing right-

            -and just like that, the cool early morning air hit Dean’s face and they were outside. He could see through the clear glass doors that the fire was starting to spread inside.

            “You okay, Dean?” Sam asked.

            Dean twisted to look at him and found that he could not. A bubble of rage burst within him. “Cas, can you put me down?”

            Obediently, Cas let Dean off his shoulder, and Dean stood on his own two feet, shaking himself off like a petulant two-year old.

            “You okay?” Sam repeated, panting heavily. Dean idly watched a tear of blood drip down his cheekbone from a large gash in his cheek.

            Dean sighed, feeling his nose gingerly with his fingertips. Broken? Maybe not, but it hurt like shit. “I don’t think I want pizza again for a _long_ time. Cas?”

            Dean pointed at his nose and Castiel heaved a sigh. “I am not your nurse,” he said, even as he put a hand on Dean’s forehead to cure him. Dean let a small smirk of consideration slip as Cas turned to do the same to Sam.

            “So what do we do?” Cas asked. As if in answer, one of the windows broke and flames burst through, licking the wooden paneling.

            “Do?” Dean repeated blankly.

            “What was it?” Cas asked. “Robots or dead children or-?”

            “Does it matter?” Dean shrugged. “They’re gone now. Foxy’s gone, it looks like you two put Chica in the shredder, and the other two are burning up right about now.”

            “But we don’t know what they were,” Cas insisted.

            “And sometimes we don’t,” Sam sighed. “And that’s just, part of the job. Sometimes you just have to live with…not knowing.”

            “But-“ Cas started.

            “Cas, it’s 3 AM,” Dean sighed. “I just want a burger and some sleep right about now.”

            “Really?” Sam asked. “Dean, how can you-“

            Suddenly there was the flap of wings and Cas was gone. Dean visibly frowned but quickly erased it as Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “Where do you think he went?”

            “Eh, who knows?” Dean asked carelessly, raising and dropping his shoulders as he got into the Impala. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

            Sam got into the passenger seat without another word. The Impala’s engine revved and Dean pulled out of the parking lot to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and out onto the open road, leaving a burning pizzeria behind them.

 

 

MEANWHILE…..

            “Castiel.” The smirk playing on Crowley’s lips was dripping with sarcasm. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

            “Have you been building animatronic robots to harvest human souls?” Castiel asked.

            “Animatronic-“

            “Or creating them as vessels to inhabit demons?” Castiel glared at him, his face set with purpose.

            Crowley tilted his head to the side, struggling to maintain the upper hand when he had no idea what Castiel was asking. “Are you asking me if I am building a secret robot army for my demons to take over the world?”

            Cas’ nostrils flared.

            “You’re serious?” Crowley asked skeptically.

            Castiel let out a deep breath as he stepped closer to Crowley. “Have you been reading children tales of Yogi Berra?”

            Crowley stepped away, seemingly repulsed. “Christ, what has Moose been feeding you?”

            Castiel stepped away and took a few paces back, as if to leave, before turning back. “If I find you had anything to do with this, you’ll regret it. And if you ever step one foot in a pizzeria again, you’ll have me to answer to.”

            Cas’ wings flapped, and he was gone. Crowley stared after him, his mouth hanging open slightly.

            It had finally happened. Dean had finally fucked Cas senseless.


	7. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, awkwardly enough I just realized today that I had written another chapter to this and never posted it. This was supposed to be a tie-in to a sequel of sorts that would be based off of FNAF4. I had thought FNAF4 would be something along the lines of some wealthy guy bought the animatronics because he wanted to tinker with them and they ended up terrifying his son as they stalked him at night, but Scott went in a whole different direction with it and made it into a prequel instead, so I just dropped my idea. But, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this story and got a good laugh out of it!! Cheers!!

            After years of working so many cases, they all sort of blended together at some point. Dean forgot about the pizzeria, Sam forgot about the pizzeria, and even after a while Cas forgot about the dead-children-sentient-robot animatronic animals that killed security guards for fun. Or vengeance. Or both.

            A few years later, Sam was out at a gas station just picking up supplies on a run when a particular headline and an image of a familiar purple hat caught his eye. _IT BURNS! FAZBEAR FRIGHTS BURNS TO THE GROUND!_

            Stomach churning, he snatched the newspaper off the rack and flipped through the pages, struggling through the inky black print. After the original pizzeria burned down, someone had bought the animatronics and turned the place into a local horror attraction, calling it Fazbear Frights.

            _Using the animatronics?_ Sam’s mind swam. But they had burned the place to the ground. How the hell? They had burned, hadn’t they? He had turned back and watched Freddy himself burn. Was it possible they had remade the same animatronics using spare parts?

            _Very little was found at the scene. The few items that were salvaged will be sold at public auction._

 _…at public auction._ Sam swallowed, goosebumps creeping up his skin. Which meant the animatronics were still around. He and Dean needed to get to them before- before-

            “Hey, you gonna pay for that?” The guy behind the counter asked gruffly.

            “Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Sam quickly walked up to the counter and threw down the newspaper, along with a bunch of junk food.

            “Creepy, isn’t it?” The guy asked, pointing at the headline. “Sucks, I heard they had a job opening for a night security guard. I was supposed to go in for an interview later this week.”   

            Sam felt his jaw go slack. “Yeah, probably dodged a bullet there,” he said as casually as he could. He got out of the store as fast as he could, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pulling it to his ear as he got into the Impala. He revved the engine and waited a few moments as Dean’s phone rang, and rang, and rang…Voicemail. Great.

            Sam huffed and pulled out of the Gas ‘N Gulp. Dean had asked Sam to take his time getting his pie, which probably meant he was watching porn again. Whatever. What Dean did was his business, so long as he wasn’t using Sam’s computer.

            As Sam stopped at the traffic light, he was suddenly hit with a sudden realization. He looked at the assortment of junk food in the seat next to him – _he had forgotten the pie. Again. Oh shit, Dean was going to kill him._

Sam shook his head as the light turned green and kept going. Too late to go back now. Besides, Dean would _probably_ understand. They had to find out more about this Fazbear Frights and figure out if it was really an electrical fire. It obviously wasn’t, but better to be thorough than reckless.

            Sam’s mind swam with possibilities, from how the robots could have survived the fire to the possibility of spare parts used as he pulled into the motel parking lot. He took a final glance at the black-and-white image of Freddy’s purple hat before he huffed and threw the newspaper in the plastic bag and got out of the car, walking up to their shared motel room.

            _Of course they didn’t burn. Because that would just be too easy, wouldn’t it? Since when is it ever that easy? Why can’t-_

He opened up the door and froze. He looked at the bed. On top of the crisp white sheets was tanned white flesh. On top of tanned white flesh. Tanned…white…naked-

            Sam’s jaw fell open and a gurgle of “Dean” and “Cas” rose to his chest, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “DE-ASSSSSS.”

            “Shit, Sam!” Dean struggled to sit up, his hand fisted in Cas’ hair, desperately trying to push him away from him as Cas awkwardly crawled backwards and fell off the side of the bed, rolling over onto his back, legs spread.

            A lump rose in Sam’s throat and he stared for an uncomprehending second before his face went red and he shut the door, dropping the food inside. He paused, staring at the cheap paint job across the wooden door before he turned on his heel and walked back towards the car, climbing into the driver’s seat. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into the wheel of the Impala.

            _Tanned white flesh on-_

Christ, he was never going to get that image out of his head, was he? Man, they had been doing that for years, but they always had been so discrete about it.

            Suddenly he sat bolt upright, almost hitting his head on the roof of the car. Wait. They hadn’t been fucking on Dean’s bed. They had been fucking on _his_ bed.

            Somehow, he doubted that that was the first time they had fucked on his bed.

            Sam sighed and got out of the car, fuming. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, lips pursed shut, he stormed towards the door. “DEANNNNNNNN.”

            He opened the door to see Dean getting to his feet and covering himself with a sheet. Cas was nowhere to be seen.

            “That wasn’t what it looked like,” Dean said quickly.

            “Oh no?” Sam asked sarcastically. “How many times have you two-“ he swallowed. “-done it on my bed?”

            “Done it?” Dean asked, an innocent smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know what you’re-“

            “I know you two’ve been together for a while now,” Sam fumed. “And I’ve never said anything about it because it’s not any of my business, but it becomes my business when you’re making a mess _on my bed_.”

            Dean rolled his eyes and let out a half-hearted laugh. “What’s up? Why are you back so soon?”

            “We-“ Sam rummaged in the bag next to the door. “-have a case.” He held up the newspaper for Dean to read the headline. Dean squinted at it.

            “What’s that?”

            “Remember that pizzeria that tried to turn you into a life-sized Ted?” Sam asked, turning his back as Dean started to get dressed.

            “How could I forget?” Dean asked.

            “Nightmare’s not over,” Sam continued. “Someone took the animatronics and turned them into a horror joint.”

            “Animatronics?” Dean asked. “But we torched the suckers.”

            “That’s what I thought,” Sam responded. “Anyway, the place burned down, but it looks like some of them survived. Or at least their parts anyway, they’re selling them at public auction.”

            Dean wiggled into his tee shirt and walked up to Sam, snatching the newspaper out of his hand. “You missed the date on this.”

            “What?”

            “This thing is two weeks old. Public auction came and went. Whatever’s left of those things, someone’s probably bought them up already.”

            Sam huffed, running his hand through his hair. “So what do you think?”

            “Sounds like we need to look into it,” Dean answered good-naturedly as he turned around. “Pack your stuff, let’s hit the road.”

            “Do you want to call Cas in on this?” Sam asked, watching Dean’s shoulders stiffen. “I figure you should call him. I mean, he is your boyfriend, right?”

            Dean turned around and shot him a look. “That’s none of your business.”

            “No? Maybe your boy-toy then?” Dean’s eyes flashed, but Sam continued. “That’s still a thing people say, right? Boy-toy?”

            “Dude-“ Dean said warningly as Castiel walked out of the bathroom.

            Sam stopped laughing and straightened up immediately. “Cas,” he said quickly. “Sorry, I thought you, uh, poofed.”

            Cas didn’t say anything, only smiled pleasantly as he walked over to Dean and took his hand in his. Dean looked absolutely mortified, burying his face in his free hand.

            “I heard we have a case,” Cas said at length. “So where are we going?”

            “Remember those possessed animatronics?” Sam asked. Cas’ face lit up. “We think they might be up to no good again.”

            “Then what are we waiting for?” Castiel asked as he walked towards the door, pulling Dean along behind him. “Let’s get going.”

            Sam laughed good-naturedly and shook his head, following along behind them. At least Dean didn’t realize that he had forgotten the pie again.

 

 

MEANWHILE…

            “Sir?” A dark-skinned man in a black suit stepped up behind Crowley.

            “Any news to report?” Crowley asked casually.

            “The Winchesters are on the move again,” the demon reported. “They took the bait. The fire caught their attention. They’re on their way to-“

            “And the angel’s with them?” Crowley asked.

            The demon faltered. “Uh, he, yes, the angel Castiel is…with them.”

            A faint smile played on Crowley’s lips. “Good. Let me know when they catch up.”


End file.
